


ballroom blitz

by flamebirds



Category: DCU (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: (People Means Me), Appeals to me & One (1) other person, Crossover, Male-Female Friendship, Norman Osborn Shows Up & Triggers Homicidal Urges In People, extremely self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:05:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27410143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamebirds/pseuds/flamebirds
Summary: "The Hand", he says, and God, Bette's never gonna mock the League of Shadows again, she swears, "aren't a joke.""They should probably invest in a new name then."
Comments: 5
Kudos: 4





	ballroom blitz

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spaghettisaurus_Rex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spaghettisaurus_Rex/gifts).



> Gifted to Eleanor because nobody else has listened to me ramble about these idiots even half as much. Thank you for your service.
> 
> This is an ungodly mix of DC & Marvel canon, set somewhere in Dark Reign but before Shadowland. I will not pretend to understand the Marvel timeline & neither should you.

_I need a favour._

That's what starts this whole mess: a call from Kate and a request for help, which is basically unheard of and not something that Bette can ignore. Kate's too independent for that and if Bette doesn't at least listen to her, then she's not gonna ask for help the next time she needs it.

And next time, it might be something a little more dangerous than a trip to New York.

Which, okay ━━ New York does have its fair share of danger, she'll admit that. Comes with the territory of having a superhero team settled in and the city's got two major ones. Bette's only met the Fantastic Four (see: alien shenanigans) and not the Avengers. Not as a team, at least, because she's run into individual members before, like Tony Stark (and doesn't Bruce just _love_ that guy?) and Black Widow (coolest day of her life, Bette swears).

 _So._ The favour that Kate needs is, basically, for Bette to cover for her at a gala. Her darling cousin has some Batwoman to take care of, a quick team up with Daredevil to be had and a man named Wilson Fisk to punch. Bette supports her in all her endeavours. Bette has also asked that Kate hype her up to Daredevil because she may have a _tiny_ crush.

The gala that Kate needs Bette to attend and schmooze at is held by Rand Industries, one of their many, many business partners, which, yeah, Bette can handle. Better than any of the other businesses in New York... looking at _you,_ Oscorp... and Bette thinks it's pretty interesting that the CEO disappeared for a decade, came back from the dead, apparently died again, and then returned once more. It's weird. She respects that.

Bette still doesn't like New York, though, mainly because her _last_ visit here involved a _certain_ billionaire and she may have worked with someone publically declared a menace to ruin his night and, in turn, had the contract she was working on destroyed. It was worth it, obviously, but she really could've done without the lecture form Bruce.

Kind of ruined the appeal of the city for her, to be honest. 

Anyways. Gala. Bette is _exceptional_ at them, if she does say so herself. Schmoozing is a talent of hers, her ability rivalling even Bruce's. Mainly because Bruce isn't a pretty blonde and the people he tends to deal with aren't going to look at his chest for an inordinate amount of time, but the point still stands. Points to Bette for finally beating her cousin at something.

This gala isn't that bad. Bette's trying to light Norman Osborn on fire with her gaze alone from a distance but that, she feels, is a natural instinct that everybody holds. Aside from his presence, it's actually kinda nice, the sort of party that she's become accustomed to.

She would've liked it if Kate had given her a little more warning, though, so she could prepare a date. Maybe Hank... he looks good in a suit and she loves torturing him, so it'd be an all-around win for her, but considering she barely had enough time to sort out a dress for herself, she couldn't exactly ask her friend to come from another city to join her.

Which means she had to come alone and while she doesn't usually have an issue with that when they're in Gotham, she does when they're in New York for one very simple reason: sleazy rich men will not approach her when Bruce is standing beside her like an overbearing bodyguard.

Bruce isn't here. Bette is suffering. Kate probably owes her.

And then Osborn starts moving towards her, so she decides that Kate definitely owes her. This is _life debt_ shit right here, she swears. She's not allowed to insult him or mock him and definitely not allowed to hit him because of a little thing called H.A.M.M.E.R. but seriously, she's willing to take the risk. He may be an insane megalomaniac with a goblin complex, but do you wanna know what she has? _Tasers._

"It's so good to see you again, Mary Elisabeth", Osborn says, kissing her on the cheek. Kill her now. It would be a mercy. Use her own taser on her so she has an escape from this nightmare.

"You too, Mister Osborn", she replies.

"Please, call me Norman."

She would _literally_ rather die. Seriously, lock her in a room with Darkseid, because that's guaranteed to be a better experience than _this._

It doesn't come to that. An arm drapes around her shoulder, and she gets a flash of bright teeth and blonde hair.

"Norman", the mystery man says, combining contempt and utter boredom so wonderfully that it very almost makes Bette cry. "Hope you're not trying to steal my date."

"Of course not", Osborn says, but he doesn't mention her mystery guy's name, which Bette finds a little annoying. "I was just reacquainting with an old friend."

"Good for you", the guy says, taking two glasses of champagne from a nearby server's tray, "but we've got some other people we need to mingle with. I'm sure you understand."

With a smile that sends genuine chills down Bette's spine, Osborn finally leaves with a goodbye and a promise to catch up later, a very pointed look sent in the direction of what might actually be her goddamn _hero_ with that last bit.

The guy hands her a flute of champagne, keeping his arm around her until Osborn disappears into the crowd. The second he's out of sight, the arm drops. A shame, because Bette kind of liked it.

"Sorry about that", he says. "Looks like Osborn was giving you some trouble."

"He was", Bette says with a relieved grin. "Thanks for the save... thought I was gonna commit murder there for a second."

The guy grins, all handsome. "We've all had that urge when it comes to him."

She smiles back, deciding that she likes this guy, and holds out her hand. "Bette Kane."

"Danny Rand", he replies, leaning against the bar. "I thought it was Kate that was supposed to be coming tonight."

"Something came up."

He nods wisely. "I, too, would like to get out this."

And Bette laughs, genuinely. "I can promise you, something _did_ actually come up or she'd be here."

"You flatter me, Bette, you really do."

"Isn't that the point of these things?" She teases.

Danny shrugs. The action moves his shirt just a little, revealing a dark bruise. _Kinky._ "I don't really go to them."

"You came to this one."

"Well, the company's great", he shoots back, the smile dropping a little bit, "and I didn't want to leave some people unsupervised. Especially not when they run something as friendly-sounding as H.A.M.M.E.R.."

"You mean a blunt object _doesn't_ make you feel safe and warm?" Bette says with a mock gasp.

"Can't say it does", he says, taking a sip from his flute. That little grin is back in place and it's illegal how cute it is, how cute he is. Bette should sue. Kate knows a damn good lawyer in New York and they'd be terrible rich people if they didn't abuse their connections for petty reasons. "So... you come here often?"

"Only when it's hosted by attractive billionaires."

"When else is there any appeal?"

And Bette ━━ she came here for appearances, to help her cousin out a little, for the family business. She did not come to flirt with the owner of Rand Industries or to find herself enjoying flirting with him.

She's not complaining.

It's really just predictable, then, that the whole thing goes to _shit._ She's relaxing, she's enjoying herself, there's a chance she won't be going back to her hotel room that night, and _then_ what happens?

 _Ninjas._ It's _always_ ninjas.

They come crashing through the skylight, draped in red, and before Bette can turn to Danny and tell him to run and hide, he's gone, disappeared so fast she didn't even notice. Impressive, really, and not something that she's gonna judge him for. If she was anyone else, she'd be running away too.

But she's not anyone else. She's Flamebird and she's got a mask in her purse and if she sneaks out to the coat she brought with her, she can pull out her costume. She's gotta be fast. She's pretty sure that's what the many years of training were for.

There's a commotion and a little chaos and she slips into the coatroom with no issues. The ninjas don't really seem all that focused on her which is probably a good thing.

It means she gets her suit and she fixes on her goggles, identity successfully hidden for now. The last thing she needs is some dicks with swords finding out that she's a vigilante because she's pretty sure the League of Assassins already knows that and, well, Bette's not saying she's mad about that, she's just saying that Bruce maybe could've picked other people to train with, that's all.

Maybe Mephisto was accepting students. Morals would probably be equal there.

Bette is coming up with her totally genius plan to take down the evil ninjas when she runs into somebody ━━ _literally._

She and the masked man (well, it's less of a mask, and more of a bandana tied around his head with eye holes cut out, but glass houses and all that) go sprawling to the ground, somehow managing to be quiet, and Bette glares at him.

"Who are you?" They ask at the same time.

"Flamebird", Bette hisses, "and I've got this handled."

"Iron Fist", he replies. "Ninjas are kind of my thing. You should leave before you get hurt."

"I think I can handle them just fine."

"The Hand", he says, and God, Bette's never gonna mock the League of Shadows again, she swears, "aren't a joke."

"They should probably invest in a new name then."

Iron Fist manages to hold his glare for all of five seconds before he huffs out a laugh. "They really should."

"I don't know if you're in a position to talk, _Iron Fist",_ she says. It doesn't come out as mean she intends.

"Flamebird", Iron Fist repeats. "I'm gonna guess... Gotham?"

She shrugs. "Sometimes LA. I like to travel."

"And now you're in New York", he says. "Thinking about becoming an Avenger?"

"No. Some of us still have taste", she says, creeping closer to the ballroom.

Iron Fist smiles. And, see, if she hadn't spent the last few minutes looking at that smile (and that mouth), then maybe she wouldn't have frozen to the spot, been an idiot, and let out a very confused whisper of, _"Danny?"_

Which, of course, gets the Iron Fist to look at her, actually look at her, and his mouth forms a perfect _'o'_ of surprise. _"Bette?"_

"Um, no?" She says hopefully.

He looks at her, then at the ballroom, then back at her. "We should probably talk after this."

"It's pretty much finding out a secret identity 101", she agrees, pouting a little.

He's an adult. She's an adult. Thre's only a seventy per cent chance they end up in a fistfight at the end of the night. Bette saw how Bruce interacted with the Avengers.

"We should probably", he says, gesturing towards the ballroom full of innocent people. Innocent people and Osborn, "sort that out first."

"Right."

"Yeah", he says awkwardly.

Bette _almost_ smiles at that. He's cute, he's a fellow cape which means so fewer complications... hm. She's just gonna file that under 'stuff to consider' which is where a million and one things have been left to fester in the dark. Adding another thing to the pile won't hurt.

The reason it's an _almost_ smile and not a _full_ smile is because ━━ and she's being serious here ━━ Danny's entire fist starts to _glow,_ yellow light shining outwards from within. They're close enough that she can sort of feel it, the heat that radiates out of it, and it kind of takes all of her attention.

"What _is_ that?"

He looks up at her, a little proud. "The Iron Fist."

She's got questions. She's got so many questions. She's really hoping that they don't go down the usual fistfight before friendship route. That seems like it'd end badly for her in particular.

But _first,_ the ninjas and the little ballroom blitz they've started.

* * *

There are punches. There are kicks. There is probably a little too much of Bette staring at Danny. In her defence, the Iron Fist _is_ impressive, like when it hits a crowd of ninjas and sends them careening into a wall. As she said: _impressive._

Less impressive is the two of them standing in the middle of a ballroom, surrounded by terrified billionaires and a suspiciously absent Norman Osborn. She should look into that. She should definitely look into that.

"Do you think he was kidnapped?"

"Don't get my hopes up."

She appreciates that she doesn't have to specify who she's talking about. 

"Tacos?" Iron Fist suggests. There's a speck of blood on his green costume, a great example of the exact reason Bette chose a darker red. "I'll pay."

She huffs out a laugh. There's a throwing star discarded at her foot and she's thinking about taking it. Would be a nice souvenir. "You'd better, pretty boy."

"Oh, I'm pretty now?"

"Anyone offering me free tacos is pretty."

He pauses. "That's reasonable."

"So."

"I do know a good taco truck a block from here."

She casts a look back at the civilians. They seem a little shaken up but nobody's dead and no one is bleeding out. "Lead the way, Copper Hand."

"Seriously?" He groans.

"Can Magneto pick you up by the hand?" She asks, stepping past an unconscious ninja. She gives him a little kick because she's petty like that. This night has not gone as planned.

He stops in the doorway of the ballroom. "I've... never asked."

"You should", she says. "Iron... Magneto... he probably can."

"My fist is more chi based."

"Then why isn't it called the _Chi_ Fist?"

"Because it's the _Iron_ Fist."

She scowls. "That's not a reason."

He keeps walking, straight out the door and straight past her, and the eternal temptation of tacos is what makes her follow. Definitely not anything else, _noooopppeee._

"How did you get an Iron Fist?" Bette asks, falling in place next to him. "Meta-human? Mutant? Ooh, _alien?"_

"I punched a dragon", he says. He doesn't laugh. Bette thinks that this might be the single greatest moment of her life.

"A dragon. An actual dragon."

"I plunged my hand into his molten heart━━"

Bette stops listening. A little. She's paying attention, taking it in, but her mind has slightly short-circuited at the dragon part and she's a little busy reevaluating her opinion of New York.

There's still Norman Osborn and Bruce is still somehow against her storming Avengers Tower and kicking him in the dick (an important thing she should note: he made it clear that absolutely none of them are allowed to do it. He said nothing of groups. This loophole will need to be exploited at a later date) and she still hasn't met Daredevil, but Iron Fist isn't the _worst_ superhero she's ever met and it's pretty clear that he showers more than Wolverine so... maybe the city isn't _all_ bad.

Danny hands her a taco. "You're Flamebird."

"You're Iron Fist", she responds. "Are we done stating the obvious?"

"I just meant ━━ how?"

Bette takes a bite out of the taco. "I was ten. I didn't think things through."

"Superpowers?"

"No", she says, "pissed off a gang instead. I think they're a cult now."

"I hate cults."

Bette smiles up at him, a little nervous. She's not... every other time somebody has discovered her identity, it's because they were a) family b) told by her or c) all of the above. She's never had a stranger figure it out before. She doesn't know if she likes it yet.

"I was still in K'un Lun when I was ten", Danny tells her, trying to break the ice. "It's where I lived for years... it's home."

"I don't think I've heard of it."

"It's in another dimension."

She bites down on her lip, trying not to laugh. "Is there anything normal about you?"

"Uh... my best friend is bulletproof?"

"I hate that that _is_ pretty much normal these days."

"Especially for people like us."

"I imagine a glowing fist does tend to attract strange things."

"So would tasers and flamethrowers", he points out. A good point, but hardly efficient enough to debate the champion of Gotham Academy's debate team that regularly likes to argue over ridiculous things with Batman, of all people.

Bette should get a new hobby.

But for now, she says, "Actually, I tend to use them to _deter_ strange things."

"How's that working out for you?" He asks her. It's only a little cute, she swears.

"The results have been questionable."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah", she says, trying not to grin. "They haven't been enough to drive away this weird dragon-punching-ninja."

"I hear they're stubborn."

"Cute, though."

Danny's grinning again and Bette can't stop herself from returning the action. It's hardly her fault that he's infectious enthusiastic or that he's handing her another taco.

He leans up against the wall of the building, some kind of bank, and Bette finds herself joining him, not really giving it any thought.

Kate is gonna kill her for this; leaving the gala so early, letting her identity be discovered by a stranger... she should definitely be concerned about that, because the biggest curse of being a part of their family, is that it's pretty easy to follow the clues once you figure out even one of their secret identities.

Bette doesn't see Danny Rand as the type of guy who'd tell anyone though and so long as she doesn't mention it to her cousins, this whole thing should be fine. And she'll just tell Kate about Osborn and aside from a brief flash of the patented Overprotective Kane Cousin™ coming into play, things should work out just fine.

So maybe she didn't end up at some random billionaire's penthouse apartment, lying on silk sheets and tipsy as hell, but she's more than willing to settle for post-ninja tacos with a dragon-punching-ninja.

"How long are you in New York?" He asks her between bites.

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On if there's something interesting. Beyond tormenting those new Avengers, obviously."

"You know, the Hand's got a base not too far from here... I was planning on hitting it tomorrow."

"Are you asking for back-up, Mister Iron Fist?"

"Are you offering, Miss Flamebird?"

"Maybe I am", she says slowly. "Would that be okay?"

He smiles again, a little softer. "Yeah. Yeah, it would."

Well then. She'll just have to stay in New York a _little_ longer.


End file.
